


Polaris

by redscudery



Series: Scudery's Saturday Night Fic Fest [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Kissing It Better, M/M, Scudery's Saturday Night Fic Fest, Silly, snowmobile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 13:47:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redscudery/pseuds/redscudery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From my Saturday Night Fic Fest on tumblr (redscudery.tumblr.com). </p><p>Prompt was "The one where Sherlock drops a snowmobile on his foot"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Polaris

**Author's Note:**

> Polaris is a brand of snowmobile.

"OW!" 

"What? WHAT!" John starts up from a half-nap on the couch.

"My FOOT!" Sherlock's angry voice cuts through the flat.

"Where are you? Are you bleeding? Poison? WHAT?" John leaps gracelessly off the couch and towards Sherlock’s voice. 

“I think it’s broken. That RIDICULOUS mechanical item fell on it. WHAT IS IT JOHN MY FOOT IS BROKEN!?!”

John shakes his head. Unreal. For someone who is so cavalier about his day-to-day health, Sherlock is an incredible whinger when he chooses. Which is a lot. 

“Sherlock, that is a snowmobile. It is a toy. It must weigh about three hundred grams, which, I have to tell you, is simply not enough to break any bone, not even in your delicate body.”

“Kiss it better?”

“I will not.”

“Please?” One day John is going to cut off Sherlock’s hair in the night. Every single time Sherlock lets that front curl fall over his right eye, John always ends up doing something highly dubious. Oh, it looks fine now- just kiss that long, lean, pale foot- but WHAM! Half an hour from now he’ll be wearing a llama suit in public or something. 

Sherlock, tired of waiting, pokes John with his foot and raises his eyebrows.

Despite himself, John reaches out and caresses Sherlock’s instep, then drops a kiss on top of his foot. 

“Thank you. Now, can you drive whatever this is? We’re going to Finland.”


End file.
